Bones of You
by mktoddsparky
Summary: /Flames dance across the bottom edge of the picture, stripping color and leaving behind crumpled blackness. The flames weave up her fingers, hissing. The pain is blinding, then gone. Tears roll down her cheek, splash onto her hands./ Or, admittance.


Bones

of You

**.**

**a/n: **he needs to come back. it must happen. that is all. reviews are ever appreciated (:

**.**

"Shh. Shh. It's okay. It's me."

_It's you_. Her fingers scrabble towards his.

"You're safe."

_Of course I'm safe_. Caroline turns to bury her face into Tyler's shoulder. But these shoulders are more rigid than Tyler's, and the collarbone is more pronounced, the skin flecked with little freckles.

Looking up into Klaus' harsh brown eyes circled with gold, Caroline takes a deep breath. It shudders against her throat. It hurts. He's gripping her arms too tightly and his lips are moving. Her ears need to be popped. Everything sounds muffled -_get out, get out. is that him speaking? _

She's embarrassed to admit how her skin tingles where his hands brush. Embarrassed, as she should be. She has Tyler, a nice life here in Mystic Falls. Why does she keep remembering when Klaus told her that living here would never be enough for here. She'd never told Tyler how much she wanted to visit Milan and Paris, because there was just too much drama here. But the way he'd proposed the idea, it had made her feel like there would be more drama in his company than back here with problems such as an immortal vampire hunter and a bloodline which could destroy them all at any moment. But she can't go off with him. It's not that simple. _I hate him_, she reminds herself half-heartedly.

"Thank you." Her voice sounds raspy. She doesn't know what she's thanking him for.

All Caroline notices is that when his eyes soften, head tilting just slightly and fingers tapping against her, she has to work just a little harder to breathe.

Before she can entertain the thought, Klaus is gone. She stands alone in the hallway, inhaling, exhaling, glancing down at the dried blood on her fingers that he's smeared with his thumbs.

.

.

Her mom tries to ask questions, but quickly shuts up. She knows better than to try and understand her daughter's world.

Caroline lies on her bed and fingers the edge of her pillow, remembering the feel of Klaus' skin underneath her lips as he'd fed her. Even now his words about beauty in the little things, in the grandure of places such as Paris or Rome, make her kind of smile. _I'm only smiling because I want to visit those places_, Caroline tells herself firmly.

Five minutes later, she's holding the picture he drew her in her hands, looking down at his flattering imitation as a happy little feeling bubbles in her stomach, like weak butterflies clinging to life. Caroline remembers Tyler, bites her lip. _I'm such a hypocrite_. After all of the lectures she gave Elena about picking one of the Salvatore brothers, acting as if she was the know-it-all in matters of mythological relationships, she's here with her own dilemma.

She showers, scrubs her skin, lathers away the memory of Klaus in every nook and cranny. The dried blood filters down the drain. Caroline wishes that just for once, she'd still feel the pain of her wounds, just to remember. When the injuries disappear, the memories are quick to follow. All of those times, all of those cuts and bruises earned from helping Tyler or being stupid, have vanished. She feels like the meaning behind them, the reasons for helping, are slowly vanishing too. That scares her.

Leaning against the shower wall and rinsing between her toes, Caroline sighs. _When was the last time we snuggled after sex and just talked, got to know each other, Tyler?_ It's not that she doesn't love having sex with her boyfriend, because it's great. She just hates listening to the sound of his snores, trailing her fingers up his bare back and missing the times where he fought for her, knew what she stood for.

It doesn't take long to dry off. Steam rises up the bathroom mirrors and she scrubs at her body with a cream colored towel, rubbing until her skin turns red. The color fades though. Her body recognizes it as pain and takes it all away.

_"Caroline? Caroline, please pick up the phone. It's important."_

She didn't hear her phone ring in the first place. Did it ring? Is she just going insane?

"Hey Tyler," she says softly, trying to sound just vulnerable enough. That way he'll feel bad and come and take care of her. She feels bad, manipulating him, but sometimes a girl just needs to hug her man, even if it involves subterfuge to get it.

"He's dead, Care." Tyler sounds jubilant. "We killed Klaus. Bonnie did a spell and-"

She lets him ramble. There isn't anything else to do. It's hard to breathe, to think, so may as well listen.

"Care?"

"That's great, Tyler." _Hurry, or he'll suspect something. Even if there's nothing to suspect. "_Let's throw a little party at Elena's in celebration. Can you find some Amber Bock and bring it over?"

"That's cool, but-"

"But what?" A sweat breaks out across the back of her neck.

Tyler laughs. "You're the only one who likes Amber Bock, Care. I'll find something. Don't worry."

"See you soon."

He hangs up. Caroline's glad that he doesn't say _i love you_ because she doesn't think she has it in here to answer him with much enthusiasm. Crossing the room, she picks up the picture Klaus drew her -_maybe I can cross the world one day. You were right. I am made for bigger and better things. _She holds it up, grabs the lighter. Something wet trickles down her cheek. _Crack. We all fall down_. Flames dance across the bottom edge of the picture, stripping color and leaving behind crumpled blackness.

The flames weave up her fingers, hissing. The pain is blinding, then gone. Back, and then gone. Tears roll down her cheek, splash onto her curved hands. _Hiss_. She blows gently on the picture and walks out onto the deck. Dainty edges of the blackened photo break off and wiggle in the breeze, free, excited, reborn. After a long hesitation, Caroline drops the picture and watches it float to the ground. It has rough edges, splintered meaning, uncertainty, mystery, beauty...

...kind of like him.


End file.
